So Many Secrets
by mentallyinsanepyress
Summary: Pyra has secrets.So what happens when her secrets start to get more complicated when she discovers someone from her forgotten childhood?Can Pyra ever have life how she wants it without having to keep so many secrets? PietroOC RemyOC OCOC
1. prologue

**French words (that are in here and that you may want to know)**

femme - woman

Le Diable Blanc - The White Devil

petit (shown here p'tit) - small (term of endearment)

cher - expensive (term of endearment)

fille - girl

oui - yes

adieu - good-bye

d'accord - of agreement

merde - shit

bon - good

Dieu - God

mon frere - my brother

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Oh, they were just angry, we tell ourselves when someone blurts out something they later apologize for. But a word, once spoken, lingers forever. To keep peace, we pretend to forget, but we never do. Strange that a spoken word can have such lasting power when words carved on stone monuments vanish in spite of all our efforts to preserve them. What we would lose persists, lodged in our minds, and what we would keep is lost to the elements or by our own doing.

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Remy calmly walked down the maze of hallways that made up his family - well, foster-family's - house.

"An' jus' where y'be goin' wit _dat_ deal, Gator Bait?"

Remy paused and half-turned with a shrug to glance back at his "brother", Henri. "Remy heard ya'll got d'youngest "Ssassin. Figured he'd give 'er some food, make 'er somewhat comf'table in dis hellhole while she waitin' t'be rescued."

"Now why y'gonna go an' do _dat_? She our _enemy_, Remy. Let d'bitch starve."

"Now, see, Henri - Remy ain't as cold as you or Jean-Luc. He ain't gonna sit back an' watch an innocent femme starve fo' no good reason."

"No good reason! She a 'Ssassin. Ain't dat reason 'nough?"

"Nope."

"Oh, come _on_! Listen t'what I'm sayin' fo' once in y'short lifetime - leave. Her. Be. Go t'ya room an' play wit y'cards or sometin', Remy."

"Go put y'head in d'blender an' turn on d'liquefy switch, _Henri_."

With that, he turned on his heel and continued on down the hallway. Pausing in front of a door that was seemingly the same as all the others, he balanced the tray in one hand as he used the other to dig a set of keys out of his jeans pocket. Quickly undoing the lock, he slipped into the room without a noise Setting the tray down on a dresser to his side and re-locking the door, he turned a slight smile to the young girl sitting on top of the covers of the bed...

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_While Remy and Henri were talking..._

Jerking at the ties that bound her wrists and ankles, Pyra tested their strength. The Thieves hadn't taken any of her weapons (thank the gods!), but they sure as hell didn't want her to get to any of them, either.

_'Got any ideas for helping me get out of this bind?'_

_'Funny, but no. Just wait. Someone will come eventually and you can just make your great escape then.'_

_'Wait?! _That's_ your brilliant plan?!'_

_'Yes. If you're so desperate to go, then tell them you have to _go

_'To the bathroom? Ha ha. Yeah. Right. And just how am I supposed to tell them that? News flash, O Observant One - bandanna in mouth. Kinda tight. Can't talk...Taste's disgusting, too.'_

_'What do you mean 'can't talk'? You're talking to me now.'_

_'Through my mouth, you dimwit!'_

_'Oh. Forgot.'_

_'Yeah. And since apparently you don't wanna just pop outta my head and help me untie these stupid things, I'm just gonna sit here and wait...'_

Hearing a slight noise at the door, she turned a glare to it, hoping it wasn't the men who had captured her.

_'Maybe it's Vivien or Carl...'_

_'I can only hope...'_

She was surprised when a boy slipped through the door, quietly setting a tray of food on the dresser to his side and turning to face her with a charming smile.

_'Definitely _not _Vivien or Carl...Or the other guys...Remember to keep your eyes down when we're talking - don't look at him too much.'_

_'I know.'_

He looked to be only a couple years older than her, but it was his eyes that amazed her.

Le Diable Blanc

Red on black, they were even stranger than her own dark burgundy eyes that were flecked lightly with black, red, orange, and gold.

"Issokay, p'tit. Remy gonna help y'outta here."

_'He's a Thief. Should I trust him?'_

_'Might as well. What other choice do you have at the moment?'_

Hesitantly, Pyra gave a small jerk of her head to nod her assent. Grinning wider, the boy - _Remy_ - walked over to her and knelt at the side of the bed. Placing a finger on the rope that bound her wrists and ankles together, a small amount of vibrant pink energy seemed to flow from his finger and into the rope, making it glow for a second before disintegrating.

_'Play the innocent child. He seems to actually want to help. If it turns out to be a ploy, then make your move to kill him. Not before.'_

_'But did you see what he just did? The rumors about his powers are true...Do you really think I could take him in a fight?'_

_'You're a good fighter. I highly doubt his skills come anywhere near yours. Don't worry. I don't think it'll come to that anyway.'_

The ropes now gone, Pyra rotated her wrists, getting the blood to flow back into them while rubbing the angry red rope burns.

"Turn 'round, cher."

Looking quizically at him, she raised an eyebrow in question.

"De bandanna, p'tit. Remy take it off f'ya. Den we gotta get movin', d'accord?"

Nodding hesitantly, she twisted around on the bed. She could feel the slight tug of his fingers as he worked the know quickly, the bandanna falling away from her mouth.

"Dat better, cher?"

Wiping a hand across her mouth, she nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."

"Anytime. Dough hopefully we won't be caught in dis situation again, neh?"

"Yeah." Biting her lip for a moment as if in conflict of deciding whether or not to say more, she continued, "Aren't you who they call _'Le Diable Blanc'_? You kinda match the decription I've heard..."

He laughed and pulled her off the bed as he moved it over some, revealing a trapdoor. "Dat's only one o'my endless nicknames, I s'pose. How old are y'anyway, fille? Seven? Eight?"

"I'm _nine_. If you're a _Thief_, why're you helping me?"

Pointing into the semi-darkness that the trapdoor led to, he said, "Wait down dere fo' a minute. Remy gonna clean up here, den come fo' ya 'nother way."

Not sure whether or not to trust the young Cajun Thief, she went down the stairs anyway to wait at the bottom for Remy to come back. The long passageway was kept dimly lit by faint lights set at wide intervals, leaving dark shadows of blackness between them. This would most likely lead to the boathouses, like the one in the Assassin's house.

"C'mon, cher. What's y'name, anyway?" _he_ said, coming up from behind her and leading the way forward.

_'Should I tell him?'_

_'What harm can it be?'_

"Pyra."

"Pyra, huh? You a pyro? Y'like fire?"

She shrugged. "I guess. But it's just a nickname from my full name."

"An' dat would be...?"

"Of no concern. Why do you want to know, anyway?"

"Jus' tryin' t'keep conversation flowin', p'tit. So, _Pyra_, how did a pretty fille like y'self wind up here? An' where'd y'get d'fancy big words/no accent t'ing, huh? Remy t'ought _everyone_ 'round here had an accent."

"The first question is also none of your business. As for the second, it's just how I was raised. Throws people off. You were obviously wrong about everyone around here having an accent. And I thank you for helping me, sure, but that doesn't entitle you to information. We're still in different Guilds, you know."

"Oui, oui. Remy knows de technicalities."

"You never answered _my_ question, Remy. Why are you helping me?"

"'Cause Remy believes in treatin' filles right - at least d'ones dat deserve it."

Pyra shook her head. "But I don't deserve _anything_. I got caught. Everybody would say I _deserved_ to be caught. I was stupid and didn't pay attention."

Remy shrugged as they came to an old wooden door that led out to the collection of motor-boats floating quietly in the swamp. "Well, not everyone have d'same 'pinions, cher. Remy wanna help ya."

Pyra followed Remy quickly down the docks to a boat at the end. _Lady Luck_ was printed in solid letters along the side.

"Duck down under dat blanket. Make sure no one sees."

She obediently slid under the rough brown blanket that lay on the bottom of the cold metal boat and curled into a non-descript ball.

"Dey'll jus' t'ink Remy's goin' out fo' a ride. He do dat a lot."

The low hum of the moter started and revved as they made their way out of the Thieves' side of the bayou, going around trees, stumps, and hidden traps. Pyra felt the boat start to slow down before coming to a complete, bobbing stop in the murky water.

Peeking under the blanket, Remy smiled. "Y'can come out now, p'tit. We in neutral waters, but I figured we say our '_adieu's_' now so dat we don't spend d'time doin' it in d'Ssassin cove where dey'd capture Remy. Flip-flop really ain't his style."

Pyra let out a small laugh. "Yeah. Well...thanks. For everything."

"No prob, cher. Jus' wish we'da met under diff'rent conditions...Hey! Remy got something t'give ya. She's gotten m'outta somma d'_worst _situations. Maybe she'll do d'same f'you."

"She?" Pyra watched as he pulled a playing card from his trench pocket and held it out to her. Carefully taking it, she looked at him in question. "The Queen of Hearts? What's so special about the Queen of Hearts?"

"Why, Lady Luck o'course!" He looked at her incredulously - like she was stupid.

"Oh. Thanks. I could use a little luck, especially after today's disaster. I wanna give you something, too." Reaching back, she untied the red silk ribbon from her hair and handed it to him somewhat shyly. "It's my favorite ribbon. My papa gave it to me when I was five. Hey! Now we each have something to remember the other by!"

"Yup. Remy'll always keep dis close t'is heart, cher. T'anks."

"I'll keep this close to my heart, too," she smiled.

"Bon. Now, y'gotta help me get t'rough dese water sos's we don't fall inta a trap, d'accord?"

Nodding, she carefully directed him the rest of the way until they finally arrived at the docks of the Assassin's Guild's House. Two huge gators rose from the murky depths of the water, viscious teeth snapping.

"Digger! Bertha! Down!" Pyra commanded, resulting in the gators grudgingly closing their mouths, but still staying at the surface.

Remy laughed. "Guard Gators. Sweet. Wish _we_ had some. So - which one's which, cher?"

"The bigger one - that's missing the tip on the tail and has the scar across the snout? Yeah, that's Digger. Bertha's the smaller one. They're brother and sister. I found them when they were little - they've been with us ever since." Skillfully jumping out of the boat, Pyra leaned back over to kiss Remy on the cheek. "Thank you for everything, Remy. Maybe the next time we see eachother it'll be under better circumstances." She couldn't keep the hopefullness from her voice.

He grinned at her. "We can only hope, p'tit. But Remy promises he _will_ see y'gain. Don' know when, don' know where. But it'll happen someday. He promise y'dat."

Pyra smiled back, then ran off down the docks, her feet quietly thudding against the wooden planks. She turned back once for a final wave, then watched as he expertly turned the boat around and sped off, presumably back to _his_ Guild.

_'Nice. No one saw. No harm, no foul. Now just go inside and walk to your room as if nothing happened. Maybe they won't notice how long you've b-'_

"Pyra! Merde! Where de _hell_ y'been? What took y'so long?"

Flinching, Pyra slowly turned around to look up at Joe. It took _a lot_ to get the young, easy-going, 21-year old Cajun angry, and he was visibly fuming. She quietly waited to see if steam would come out of his ears like in cartoons.

"Who d'hell was _dat_, huh?"

Pyra looked down, shame-faced, and scuffed her foot against the wooden boards. Like her, Joe could take or leave his natural accent, depending on his company. When he was around her, he typically spoke without it, though. That he was using it now meant that he was _really_ mad. He didn't have control over his accent when he was angry. That he was cussing, too, just solidified that fact. He tried his best not to use bad language around her, either.

"Nobody..."

"Like hell! Y'look at me, girl, an' y'etter tell me d'truth dis time."

Pyra's gaze remained on the boards by Joe's feet.

_'Should I tell him? I'm scared...'_

_'Yes. Tell him and he'll calm dowm. What's the worst that could happen? You know je would never hurt you.'_

_'I know that, but it doesn't stop me from being scared...'_

Jerking Pyra's chin up, Joe forced her to look at him as he watched her eyes switch back and forth between their natural burgundy color and the pitch black that he had come to associate with when she was talking in her head.

Shaking his own head and releasing his hold on hers, he sighed wearily. "Quit that. I'm sorry for yelling. You just worried us when you didn't come back. You should have been back hours ago. Where were you?"

_'Tell him the truth...'_

"...The Thieves' Guild..."

"What? Why?"

"...They caught me outside of Oscar's. I'm not sure what they were going to do with me..."

"Probably try ransom or torture for information. Hmm...Well, that explains your rope burns, then. So, how'd you get out and who was that that dropped you off?"

"..._Le Diable Blanc_. He helped me. He's really nice, papa. Please don't poison him..."

Joe laughed. "I wouldn't poison the boy that helped you, Py-py. Never. You know me. Only people that deserve it get hurt."

"I know..." Pyra looked up at him and smiled impishly. "So you're not mad at me anymore?"

Rolling his eyes, Joe easily picked her up and swung her sround onto his back, piggy-back style. "Nah...I was never mad to begin with. Just worried. Now why don't we go get your boat all sneaky-like, so no one will suspect a thing, huh? And where'd your hair ribbon go?"

"Sounds like a plan!" crowed Pyra gleefully as Joe started walking toward his own boat. "My hair ribbon? I, uh, musta lost it."

"Well, I'll just have to get you a new one then! No problem."

"Thank you, papa! And I betcha can't guess what? Did you know _Le Diable Blanc_ talks in third person? It's so cool! His name is Remy."

"Remy, huh?"

"Yup! He-"

"Joe! Viv just hollard - said they got Py- oh! Hey, Pyra. Nevermind, then. They psychotic."

"Nah - they _did_ have her, Bill. She got out. Just arrived, actually. We'll explain later. We're gonna go get her boat. Make sure Julien knows she's okay."

"Will do." Bill gave a parting salute to them before turning and heading back into the house...

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Putting his boat back as he normally would, Remy climbe out and went inside through the main door to the house. Shrugging out of his trench, he folded it over an arm as he made his way toward his room. Unfortunately, he didn't quite make it to the intended destination.

The door of Henri's room opened to show Jean-Luc, Henri behind him. "Well, well, well...What d'we have _here_, Henri? Looks t'_me_ like a lil traitor that needs t'be reminded who 'xactly makes d'_rules_ in dis household. So, _Remy_, where y'been? Off playin' hero by savin' d'Ssassin?"

Remy smiled and shrugged nonchalantly. "Nope. Jus' went fo' a cruise. Not _Remy's_ fault if'n y'lose sometin' dat ain't yours t'begin wit."

"Dammit, Remy! I take y'in off d'streets, I feed you, put clothes on y'worthless back, an' keep a sturdy roof over y'ungrateful head. I do all dese t'ings, an' how you repay me? By commitin' treason 'gainst d'Guild. What, y't'ink it's just a _coincidence_ dat d'girl disappears jus' when y'decide t'go out? Huh? Be lucky I saw somethin' in y'an' 'dopted you. Henri, escort d'traitor downstairs fo'is punishment fo' treason 'gainst d'Guild. I'll be down inna minute."

"Oui, papa."

Henri walked the short distance to where Remy stood with a slight smirk. He took his fate stoically - allowing Henri to grab his wrists and hold them behind his back as he pushed Remy down the narrow hall.

"I _told_ y'not t'do dat, Remy! I _warned_ ya even! I'm sorry I told, but y'deserve it. Y'shoulda jus' left her _be_! _Dieu_!" Henri hissed quietly into Remy's ear.

Remy's mirk widened. "Non, y'ain't."

"I ain't _what_, dickhead?"

"Well, _oui_, y'are a dickhead. But all _Remy_ was gonna say was dat y'ain't sorry."

Henri rolled his eyes and shoved at Remy. "Y'right. I ain't. I mean, it ain't like I t'ink o'y'like _mon frere _or nuthin'."

Opening the door to the room they had stopped at, Henri pushed Remy inside and turned on the light. Crossing his arms across his chest and cocking an eyebrow, Remy smugly asked, "Well? Ain'tcha gonna tell Remy t'do sometin' so dat he ready fo'is _beatin'_? Or are y'jus' gonna stand dere, lookin' like de dumbass dat y'are, an' get in trouble with Jean-Luc as well? Care t'join me?"

Looking at him disgustedly, Henri replied, "You know d'drill asswipe."

"Sure y'don' wanna stick 'round an' watch Remy get a whippin'? It _should_ be fun. Normally is. At least he hopin' so - fo' y'an' Jean-Luc."

Henri just waved a dismissive hand as he left the room. Remy sighed. "T'ought not..."

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**A/N** yeah, so there ya go! the new first chap for this fic. well, prologue for it, but who's paying attention? decided to give u a lil easter present. anywayz...kinda gives ya a slight background for your info when i get on in chapters. and intros a few characters. but, yeah. don't know when i'll have the next chap up - i'm a very busy pyro, you know - but i'll try working on it and have it up for your reading enjoyment sooner or later. hopefully sooner rather than later - but cha never know. sorry if the accents are hard to read, but it's very hard to try and capture how they actually sound in words on paper. REVIEW PLEASE!! lol. otherwise i just may have to sic Digger and Bertha on ya...c u for the next installment!

mentallyinsanepyress


	2. Background Check

No French in this chap, so no worries...

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We say that we don't, but we do. We say that we won't, but we will. Constantly we circle around the truth, never looking directly at it for fear of what we may see. So shrouded in the tangled web of lies we weave that we wouldn't know what the truth looked like if it were staring us in the face. But then, what does the truth really look like? A lie can be a truth and a truth can be a lie, depending on the twisted way we think it. So how do we discern the difference between a truth and a lie? What exactly is the truth? And what exactly is the lie? They are nothing but one and the same. For without truths there are no lies, and without lies there are no truths.

-Twisted words for the twisted human mindset that surrounds us.

-Psychological ramblings of a mentally insane pyress.

-Me.

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The pale yellow streetlights reflected off the jet black helmet and illuminated the figure on the sleek black crotchrocket with complicated red geometric designs as it raced through the streets. Crowds of people were lined up on the sidewalks of all the roads used for tonight's racing. Betting, shouting for their favorites - the crowds were always a noisy bunch.

"Hey-yo, Py. I gotta get goin' before the crowd starts a riot for not havin' music. You comin'?" the silky, slightly accented male voice came in crystal clear over the helmet's communicator.

"Nah, not right now, DJ. Gonna finish this race - after that, don't know. Prolly do a lil more racin', then I'll head over later."

"'Kay. Not too late, now."

"Yeah. Tell Joe and Bill sorry, but I gotta get this outta my system."

"Yup. Later."

"Later."

The connection ended and she leaned farther into the bike, pushing it for the last leg of this race. Doing a quick sweep of the competition - hardly any, really - she saw that they were far behind her. Typical for this time of night when the beginners were racing. She just did these early races for fun and practice, she didn't actually collect her money 'til the later ones when she went up against the more experienced riders.

Crossing the finish line, she skidded into a U-turn and swung over to the side to wait for the real winner. Seeing Davey push his way through the crowd to her, she took off her helmet and shook her long hair out. The shiny black locks mixed with red, orange, and yellow streaks cascaded down her back in soft waves.

"Hey, Davey."

"Pyra! _Baby_...How's my lil firecracker?"

"A poppin' and a cracklin'." A corner of her mouth turned up in a half-smile at their usual greeting. Davey was a big 6'5" compared to her slight 5'6" - accentuized even more so by the fact that she remained sitting on her bike as he stopped a foot away from her.

Davey is the guy who ran the races. He lived here, downtown, in a block of rundown apartments. He made an average income, and could afford to buy a house of his own if he really wanted to, but despite the appearance of the neighborhood, he liked where he lived.

He was 23 and responsible, but chose to act half his age because it got her to smile...And it annoyed the hell outta his older brother.

Dante was more of the serious sort, the complete polar opposite of Davey. He was a freelance doctor who made and average to higher income. He was called in to the races if there was an accident because it saved everyone from the mess of the hospital.

He lived in a well-kept house in a nice part of town. His bleach-blonde hair and stormy grey eyes were as contradictory as Davey's pitch black hair and ice blue eyes.

The races were just like any you might find in another city in the backstreets and downtown alleys, only it was organized. The cops knew about it - some even participated themselves. They didn't cause any fuss for Davey.

Each night was a different route, so that no one could take the advantage of knowing the streets better than the others. The roads were sectioned off so that the racing wouldn't come in contact with a stray car or anything that was just passing through the neighborhood.

The racing was put together by times and by what was being raced. The earlier times, usually set between 9 and 11, were used for beginners, or for those that just wanted some practice. The later times, usually between 11 and 2, were used for intermediate and advanced racing.

Skill level was judged by how many races the person had participated in and how well they did. Bikes and cars were the main racing tools and they typically switched back and forth, depending on the night. Since Fridays and Saturdays were always the busiest, naturally, both tools were raced, alternating back and forth.

The intense flashyness and need to impress of everything got boring after a while, but she still liked to see what was going on, and the racing helped her to let off some steam.

Davey waved a hand in front of her face. "You still with me, babe?"

She swatted his hand away good-naturedly. "Yeah. Just thinkin'. Sorry. What'd I miss?"

"Well for one, Nate over there won," he pointed across the street to a crowd of extra-noisy people. "And for two, I asked ya a question. What, ya don't like me anymore? Is _that_ why you're tuning me out? 'Cuz if it is, I mean, _damn_ girl. Ya coulda at least told me or somethin'. I can leave right now if you want," he joked, mock hurt showing on his face as he started to turn away.

She shook her head at his antics. "Davey, Davey, Davey. Always the drama queen."

He laughed, his brilliant blue eyes sparkling merrily from under his disheveled mop of black hair. Bouncing back over, he pecker her on the cheek. "I knew ya couldn't resist me."

"Sure, sure. Whatever you say." She pushed him away, but wasn't quite able to keep her smile of amusement from showing. He always somehow did that, no matter how bad of a mood she was in.

"Ah-hah! Is that a smile I see? You really should smile more often, hun. Makes you more beautifuller."

She shook her head agin at his butchering of words. He liked to do that just to irk her. "Yeah, sure. What was your _real_ reason for coming over here? Other than the fact that you love me so much."

"Wanted to talk to you. See what your plan was for tonight. You racin' some more, or do you have to get to the club?"

"The guys can wait a little bit longer, I think."

"Awesome! Hey- we haven't done anything outside the races for a while...you know when you're free?" he asked slyly, grinning and waggling his brows suggestively.

She tilted her head back slightly, thinking. "You _know_ how busy I am."

"Yup. Always the lil _worker bee_ instead of the _queen_. C'mon...please? I _promise_ we'll do something fun. Be a _queen_ for a day. You deserve it."

Sighing, she shrugged. "Fine. I'll check my schedule and get back to you later. That okay?"

He bottom lip out and pouted. "I _guess_...I kinda liked the spur-of-the-moment-idea myself..."

"Yeah, well, you should know by now how I react to unscheduled plans and spur-of-the-moment decisions."

"Not well. Good point. I'll just wait then. Hey- something I've never got. Why don't you ever collect money on these races, huh? Technically, you'd be the actual winner. Waste of money in _my_ book, to pay to race, win, then not collect the winnings."

"But where would be the fun in _that_? Plus, it would kill the high for the newbies. Have to let them enjoy _something_, right? And anyway, I have the money to waste. It really doesn't dent my wallet any. The way _I_ see it, it goes to a good cause."

"_Yeah_...Encouraging kids to race and likely kill themselves...Some cause."

"Hey - your words, not mine. _I _think it's good anyway. And _you_ should too, since _you're_ the one who organizes it."

"Yup. Better my races than someone else's. Or freelance."

"You better go pay the kid, Davey. He may come after you if you you put it off much longer. Next race is lining up, anyway. I'll talk to you later, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure, sure. You can only stay away from me for _so long_ at a time, you know. _Minutes_ from now, you'll be _crawling_ back to me, _begging_ for my attention."

"Of _course_, Davey," she said with a smile, pulling her helmet back on and getting out to the line. The guy with the bandanna waved it frantically before diving for the safety of the sidelines...

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Pyra parked her bike in her usual spot next to DJ's black and silver Ninja. His bike was oddly apropos, considering he was actually trained as a ninja. He bought the brand as a joke for those that knew his background.

DJDJ was the 26-year-old resident DJ of Moonfire, a popular club here in Salem Center, New York.

Born Dykkion Jokail to the parents of Yu Fanuyuma and Antoine Jokail, he was of Japanese and African-American descent.

His father, AJ, was a big-time American gangster back in his day. He went to Japan on a job, and there met Yu. It was love at first sight. Aj hasn't left Japan or Yu's side since.

Yu Fanuyuma came from a prominent old Japanese family who was well connected. She was the daughter of the man that AJ went to work for. She was also a Geisha.

Yu's father liked AJ, and so somewhat reluctantly allowed him to marry her three months after their first meeting, even though it went against Geisha conduct. Yu became pregnant with DJ, and he was born nine months to the day after the wedding.

DJ was raised in a strict but loving household with many rules. He was taught to respect his elders at an early age from both sides, and was mostly influenced by his father and his uncle on his mother's side.

His father taught him the old ways of the gang and how to shoot a gun and streetfight.

His uncle, Iroh, taught him in the ancient ways of the Ninja.

DJ preferred the art of the ninja over the gang life, and was highly skilled with Japanese weaponry - even making some of his own.

She sparred with him whenever they found the time. It was hard for her to find a good enough fighting partner, but DJ was one of the few who were at her skill level and had a similar enough area of weaponry.

He also got along with Joe and Bill because he was very knowledgeable in poisons and technology - always a plus to find someone that had something in common with everyone.

Ducking under the counter, she snuck up behind Joe, who was chatting with one of the regulars, Ocampo. Bill was tending to customers at the other end of the bar, but watched her out of the corner of his eye with a smirk, knowing what was coming.

Lightly springing onto Joe's back, she covered his eyes and grinned down at Ocampo. "Yo, O! Wassup?"

He shook his head at her and finished off his drink. "A lotta shit."

"Good! I'll make sure and get my waders out."

"Hi there, Wader-girl. 'Bout time you showed up. Love ya and all that. Now get the hell offa me." Joe growled good-naturedly from underneath her.

"Well, aren't _you_ just Mr. Sunshine? You know I like the view from up here. Only chance I get to be taller than everyone else. Hey, DJ!" She waved over at DJ's box across the club, knowing that he would hear her even though her voice was drowned out by the crowd. He waved back.

Just now noticing that it wasn't DJ's music that was playing, she tousled Joe's reddish-brown hair and jumped down, glancing at the stage as she started serving customers. "I don't remember passing them, papa. Who are they?"

_'And we certainly would remember them! Look at that hottie singing! A Greek god!'_

"Oh. Them. Uh...They came in the other day for an audish. You were busy, so we didn't want to upset your schedule. They're really good, and the crowd seems to like them. I was actually thinking of asking them to be our house band..."

"Oh, really? Shouldn't we get to know them a little better? Make sure they're reliable?"

"Well, yeah. I was just thinking of the future. Besides, we've already checked them out. They're cool."

_'Checked them out, huh? Baby, I like to do some checking out right down to their-'_

"What're they called?"

"_'King of Hearts, Ace of Spades.'_ They got some really funky names, but let's see...There's Damien singing, Banger on drums, Pick, Psycho, and Ticker on guitars and bass, Keys on keyboard, and the Twins doing whatever."

_'Mmm...Damien. I don't know about _you_, but _I_ really wanna take his-'_

"Whatever, huh?"

"Yeah. But give 'em a chance, 'kay Py? I really think you'll like 'em..."

_'Yeah, _Py_. Give 'em a chance. Give _me_ a chance. You know you can't ignore me forever...'_

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He watched as she twirled down the line of customers, expertly serving drinks with a flair that her male counterparts lacked, while the colors of fire danced off her midnight hair under the moving multi-hued lights of the club.

He'd recognized her the minute he'd seen her, even though it's been seven years since their first meeting.

_Pyra..._

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**A/N** Hey-o, readers! Sorry it's kinda short, but I've been busy and this chapter just wanted to be over and done with. I've had company for the past two weeks, so I haven't had much time to be working on this. Ya kinda got backgrounds on somma my characters, and just glimses of others. When we get later into the story, I got the guys' permission to put their e-mails up for your usage in case you wanted to contact them directly or anything. XD Luv my boys...and girls...but yeah...anywayz...review please? Pretty please? With a cherry on top?

**REVIEW!! **(In case you skipped over the last paragraph - just thought I'd get the message across...)


	3. Old Friends, New Acquaintances

**French words (that are in here and that you may want to know)**

oui - yes

curieux juste - just curious

mon ami - my friend

oui/non - yes/no

non - no

fille - girl

d'accord - of agreement

Elle est toujours à l'école - She is still in school

femme - woman

merde - shit

mais - but

cher - expensive (term of endearment)

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Advice for Northerners moving to the South: Save all manner of bacon grease. You will be instructed on how to use it shortly.

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Remy LeBeau hummed an old Cajun tune as he moved about the small kitchen that Joe let his tenants use. He couldn't remember where exactly he'd picked up the tune and he didn't put much thought on it.

Tossing thick slices of bacon into a frying pan with a master chef's flair, he watched as they sizzled and spat, turning them and putting the juicy meat on a plate when it was done. Breaking some eggs, he scrambled them into the leftover bacon grease, adding to them a multitude of various Cajun seasonings and spices that he had found in one of the cupboards, as well as chunks of ham, sausage, and cheese from the fridge.

He paused in his humming and glanced behind him as he felt the presence of someone standing in the doorway. "Mornin', Joe."

"More like afternoon, really. Long time since I've heard _that_ tune."

"_Issit _now...Dat's too bad. Issa good one, neh?"

Joe nodded. "Very old, too. I used to sing it to my daughter to get her to sleep."

"Hmm. Didn't know y'sang."

"Only to her. I'm more instrumental than vocal."

Remy remained quiet for a moment before inquiring, "Y'hungry?"

"Sure. Smells good."

"_'If'n it cain't b'fried in bacon grease, t'ain't woth cookin', let 'lone eatin'_."

Joe laughed and sat down in one of the chairs at the small, round, wooden table set in front of the window, and watched Remy fry up some more bacon and crack a few more eggs. Loading the feast onto two plates, Remy then grabbed some beers from the fridge and took his seat across from Joe.

"This is great, LeBeau. I haven't had eggs this good in a while. Thanks."

"Y'welcome. Itsa least Remy could do fo' y'lettin' 'im crash here fo' d'past week."

"You leaving today?"

"Oui. I left y'money on d'nightstand."

Joe nodded and the men continued to eat in silence, lost in their own private thoughts. Remy broke the relative silence by asking casually, "Now, Remy know he prolly shouldn' bring d'subject up, but he gotta ask. Y'still in y'Guild?"

Joe's body visibly tensed as he locked gazes with Remy's demonic red-on-black eyes against his own dark brown. "So you knew who I was when you arrived? Or have you just recently found out?"

"I recognized ya. Kinda hard not t'recognize one o' d'top 'Ssassins, neh? But Remy figured dis was neutral ground, so past t'ings wouldn' matter. So...y'still in y'Guild?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Curieux juste."

"Curiosity killed the cat."

"But satisfaction brought it back, mon ami. C'mon, Joe. Issa simple oui/non question."

Joe took few minutes to think before carefully answering, "No...There's still business that comes up every now and again, but we try to stay out of it for the most part. What about you, LeBeau? Still doing the Thief thing?"

"Non...'Least not fo' d'_Guild_," he smirked. "Got kicked out 'while back - bin doin' m'own t'ing."

Joe leaned back in his chair and studied Remy's overall neutral facial expression, although the cocky smirk and smugness about his attitude set something off about him. "So the rumors are true, then?"

"Oui. Remy 'fraid dey are."

"Pity. He was a good kid for the most part. A little bull-headed, true, but his intentions were good."

Neither spoke for a while as once again they were absorbed in their own thoughts. Remy was the first to break the silence again. "Well, since we seem t'be on neutral grounds concernin' our Guilds an' all...Remy wanna ask y'nother question."

"Just one? I'm sure that I can find an answer, then."

"What can y'tell me 'bout d'fille?"

"You'll have to be more specific. I know quite a few."

Remy quirked an eyebrow and leaned forward in his chair, his eyes seeming to smolder as he softly glared at Joe. Everything about his body language and overall demeaner said that he wasn't in the mood to be messed around with. When he spoke, his voice was low and measured. "I t'ink y'know which one Remy be talkin' 'bout, Joe."

Joe turned his attention to the window and watched as three cars passed by before giving his answer. "I will tell you one, and _only_ one thing about her myself, LeBeau. The rest, you have to find out on your own. And I _don't_ want you stirring up anything with her, either. She has enough problems as it is. Not to mention the added ones that she'll have _if_ she finds out what you did that got you kicked out of your Guild. But she _won't_ find out, will she? I love her very much, LeBeau, and will do _anything _to protect her. Even if it means lying or killing you or anyone else that hurts her in any way."

"D'accord."

Joe studied his empty plate as he absent-mindedly twirled his half-empty beer bottle in slow revolutions on it's base. Finally directing his focus back on Remy, he said simply, "Elle est toujours à l'école..."

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_'Hey Julien! What's up? It's been a while since I last wrote. Sorry about that, it's not intentional, you know. You remember how busy I get. Sometimes I hate that..._

_And sometimes it's the only thing keeping me sane..._

_Anyway, I had a few minutes, so I decided to write and see how my best bro is doing. Anything new in the Guild? Any other good gossip? How are my Digger and Bertha doing?_

_Same old, same old here. Nothing new really. I'm still teaching, racing, clubbing, and fighting. Joe's still running the club and playing with his poisons. Bill helps, but the club isn't really his style, as you know. He's still tinkering with his tech toys and gadgets - making some pretty cool stuff. I'm sure I'd appreciate them more if I actually got how to work technology, but hey - I can't be a complete genius on every subject!_

_I really think you should come up and visit for a while. It'd be fun and I haven't seen you in ages! You could also meet all my friends that I tell you about and put faces to names. Please just think about it, won't you? I mean seriously. And if you have to give me another excuse like you've been doing for the past couple years, at least come up with a good one. You're starting to repeat yourself._

_I know how much you like long letters, and I owe you for not writing sooner. This is kinda short right now, so I think I'll hold off sending it for a day or two in case anything new comes up or I think of more to write that isn't so repetitive. I'm sure you hate hearing the same thing over and over again. I know I do._

_Try to stay safe for me, huh? It may have been a few years, but I'm sure you're still as bull-headed and rash as you've always been. Don't deny it. You know it's true. Promise me that you'll think through your decisions before you act on them, okay? You still worry me, even though we're so far away now. I love you and don't want you getting hurt...or killed. Hope you're being careful with your weapons!_

_-All my love_

_-From your lil sis to her dearest older bro_

_-Pyra_

She leaned back in her chair and tapped her pencil against the paper lightly as her eyes scanned the room of her 27 English students currently taking a test. Glancing at the clock, she announced, "All right. Time's up. Turn your papers in to the basket. The...fifteen minutes left of class is yours."

The students filed past the desk, dropping their papers in the designated basket before going back to their seats and striking up conversation with their friends. The loud buzz of talking filled the room and gave her a sense of peace that was hard to find in the quiet.

_'You can't be rid of me forever, Pyra. Don't you miss the talks we used to have? The help I gave you? Remember, everything you've learned, you've learned from me. Everything you've done, you've done because of me.'_

_'Not everything.'_

_'Fine! But don't forget that you've never liked being alone. Who has been with you since the time of your birth? Me. Then some _guy_ comes along and tells you he can help you. What he gives you isn't help. It's control. He's taking control of you. Why can't you see that?'_

_'He's not controlling me. _No one_ can control me. He _is _helping.'_

_'Oh, really? So you actually think those damn drugs he gives you help and don't control? Even though they lock me inside your head, block my voice from you, and limit your powers?'_

_'It's for the safety of everyone around me. Besides, I can eat normal food again! My powers are too intense to control. I won't allow an incident like before to happen again.'_

_'What, afraid you'll really kill Joe and Bill this time? Personally, I find it amazing that they even survived _'the incident'_,_ _as you put it, hardly scathed at all.'_

_'That's only because I healed what I could of them afterwards. You know that. Quit trying to guilt-trip me.'_

_'I'm only stating facts. Quit trying to convince yourself otherwise.'_

_'Whatever. Goodbye.'_

_'Wait-!'_

Pyra popped some white, circular pills into her mouth and leaned back in her chair, relaxed. She let the calm control settle over her as her body quickly went to work absorbing the medicine.

She wouldn't let herself think of the incident. She refused to remember the moment 4 years ago when she first got her powers - the events leading up to it and the catastrophic aftermath.

Not here. Not now.

The pills _did_ help. She would never allow something like _that_ to happen again.

Not ever again...

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Remy stopped his motorcycle in front of the black iron gates of a huge mansion. The brown remains of ivy and other once-green growth spread itself out over the face of the residence. Decorative trees, shrubs, and fountains were scattered over the well-kept grounds, and the thick fringe of a forest could be partially seen in the back.

It was the end of January, which explained why most of the plants were a bland shade of brown. He was sure that come spring, if he were still around, the grounds would be a very beautiful sight to behold.

_'Like a fine femme wit not'in on but a blush o' m'own doin'...'_

Pushing the button on the communicator-box set in the stone gate-posts, he spoke into it, "'Ello?"

A gruff voice answered back quickly with a, "Who are ya, bub, an' what's yer business here?"

Smirking, Remy pushed the button again. "It only Gambit, mon ami, so open dese gates 'fore he git d'itch t'_blow_ 'em open."

Indistinct grumbling was heard from the other side as the gates slowly swung open.

"Ever'one! Run fo' d'bomb shelter! D'Ragin' Cajun bin set loose!" Remy laughed under his breath jokingly as he revved his bike's engine loudly and drove up the driveway. Parking his motorcycle at the base of the mansion, he got off his bike and turned to face the bald man in a wheelchair that had a kind face and welcoming smile.

_'Merde...He a good actor. No one really ever happy t'see Gambit 'less dey o' d'female persuasion.'_

"I'm glad that you could finally make it, Gambit."

He grinned. "Hope Gambit didn' keep y'waitin' long."

"Of course not. Now, if you'll follow me, I'll give you a small tour and show you the room you'll be staying in."

"Oui." Remy slung his plain black duffel bag over one shoulder and his backpack over the other as he followed the Professor into the expansive mansion, his trademark brown trench swishing about his legs as he walked.

The Professor pointed out multiple rooms and secret passages and stated what their general use was or where they led to as they passed through the many hallways. If they came across someone, they were introduced - for the guys, by shaking hands in a very formal manner - for the girls, by a grin and bowing low over their hand for a chaste kiss.

"And these are some of my star students, Scott Summers or Cyclops, and Jean Grey."

Remy shook hands with Scott, then brought Jean's hand up to his lips for a lingering kiss just to piss off Scott, since it was obvious they were a couple. As expected, he tensed up as if for a fight. Remy let Jean's hand drop back to her side and gave her a dazzling smile and a suggestive wink over his shades before he pushed them back up.

"Nice shades, Cyk."

"Same to you, Gambit."

"T'anks."

"Are my eyes deceiving me, or am I seeing a Gambit?"

Remy turned at the melodic voice behind him and saw a beautiful African woman with pure white hair and sparkling, warm brown eyes, wearing bangles on her wrists, and a loose white tank with a ruffled, dusty-blue skirt, standing with her hands on her hips at the other end of the hall.

Scott took this chance to pull the reluctant Jean off in the opposite direction as quickly as he could with her looking back longingly in a daze toward the unbelievably sexy Cajun with the mesmerizing eyes.

"_Stormy!_"Remy exclaimed boyishly, dropping his load and running to her, easily grabbing her up by the waist and swinging her around in a circle.

Her laugh was like tinkling windchimes as she gasped, "_Gambit! _Put me down! I can't breathe!"

Swinging her around once more, Remy grinned and kissed Storm on each cheek as he set her back down on her feet. Rasing his hands to her shoulders, he held her at arm's length and brushed a loose lock of hair behind her ear. "Y'lookin' prettier den ever, Stormy. How y'bin?"

"I've been just fine, Gambit. What about you? No letters, no calls, no news...I was starrting to think the worst!"

"Mais...Gambit see how it be. Y'give up hope on d'Cajun so easily jus' 'cause he get busy an' don' report back to 'is Stormy."

"Well, I hope that won't be the case now, what with you staying here."

They both laughed as Remy hugged her again and whispered in her ear, "So good t'see y'gain, cher. Iss bin too long..."

Ororo hugged him back as she murmered back, "It _has_. I'm just glad to see you finally decided to take me up on my offer to come here. It really is a nice place. You'll like it here."

Seperating again, he continued to smile, "Gambit can see dat. Wit _you _innit, dis place gits better by d'minute!"

"Well, it's really nice to see you again, Gambit. I have to go, but I'll check on you later to make sure everything's okay."

"Oui. Gambit guess he shouldn' leave d'Prof hangin' either. Seeya 'round den, Stormy."

Giving her one last hug and a mock salute, he turned back to the Professor and slung his bags over his shoulders again. "Sorry 'bout dat lil show, Prof. Gambit couldn' help hisself." He shrugged.

"That's fine, Gambit. I'm just glad that you actually know someone here."

"Oh, yeah. Gambit and Stormy go _way_ back."

"So I've heard." Glancing at his watch, Professor Xavier smiled back at Remy. "Are you hungry? They should be serving dinner right about now. You're welcome to join us."

"Non, t'anks. Gambit had somet'in on d'way. It okay if'n y'just point d'way to 'is room? Long day, y'know? Wanna try t'git settled in , if'n y'don' mind."

"Not at all. It's right down this hallway here." He led the way to the end of the hall and opened a door. "I hope everything is to your liking, Gambit. I trust you remember your way around if you need anything later."

"Oui. T'ank y'gain fo' lettin' Gambit stay."

"Yes. I'm glad that you wanted to join us. Your powers and skills will be a great addition to the team."

Remy nodded once as he watched the Professor leave, then walked into the nicely furnished room, closing the door quietly behind him. The room was bigger than he'd expected, and he dropped his things by a chair in the corner.

He quietly turned in a circle and observed where everything was placed before starting in on unpacking his few belongings...

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Sent by: dreamsfire16

heya, Master! how ya been? my life is boring as usual. boring with a capital B. lol. well, not really, but it sucks in any case. what're you up to this week? still playing cards with the guys? ;) glad one of us can have fun. i'm still stuck at school. i have my english students starting research on a new essay this week and my chemistry students doing some labs. haven't decided what to do with my language students this week, so i'll probably just have them play some games or watch a movie. O.o' i hate my math class, and nobody in band can play our new pieces. what do you think? sorry, kinda rambling here. i'm just really stressed i guess. pushing myself too hard as usual. XO have a lot on my mind. wait-what mind? geeze, i really am delusional! n e wayz...

-hugs, dreamsfire16

Sent by: MasterofCards18

bonjour, dream! sorry your life's so boring. if i were with ya it certainly wouldn't be! we'd be having all kinds of fun, if ya know what i mean! ; hearing ya talk bout school like that kinda makes me glad that i'm through with all that. what grade ya in or teach, anyway? it's fine to ramble. you obviously have a lot on your mind and need to get it out. so you can just ramble away. i don't mind. it's better to let things out than keep things in. believe me, cher. i know from personal experience. I none of which is really pleasant. hmm... maybe someday we'll meet in person? just a passing thought...

-kisses, MasterofCards18

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**A/N** so yeah...here's the chapter. hoped you liked it! pretty much just a remix from the old chap 4, but hey, it works. it's still kinda short, so sorry bout that. the next chap should be much longer. much. i've had a new round of company come just the past few days, so that's why i kinda cut it short. they're still here...and i'm sick. colds suck. majorly. i'll have the next chap up as soon as i can! i'll try not to make you wait too long. o! and ginormous cookies to **Zukosgal21** who reviewed for the first chap, and **Chaotic Jinx **who reviewed both. love u guys!! i'm assuming that all the other reviewers that i had for the first version of the story abandoned me... oh well. n e wayz...please review? i love reviews. please?

**REVIEW!! **


	4. We need to talk, part 1

**WARNING:** There is some rather strong language in the first section of this chapter. Can't really help the way people talk or the words they choose to use. It's natural. Just thought I would warn you so that I won't get any hate mail or something for _not_ warning you. Read on at your own risk of being tainted by rough language. ;} ~MIP

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You need to forget about the past. People who keep looking behind them will only end up falling over what's ahead of them.

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Joe held the little baby girl in his arms tenderly, rocking her back and forth and cooing softly to her as Bill remained still in front of him. The newborn baby suckled one of his fingers and stared up at him in content.

"Hey, Joe? Ain't babies 'sposed to be born with blue eyes?"

"Not all. It jus' common. Dough, I gotta admit, I ain't never hearda one wit red eyes."

Bill leaned over for another look at the strange child's face. "Yeah, weird. More a burgundy than red, though. Lookit! They even got some gold innem! That wasn't there before, wassit?"

"Hmm...Dun t'ink so. Dunno. Maybe we missed it 'fore." Joe examined the infant's eyes more closely.

Rimmed in a bold line of black, the dark reddish/burgundy of her eyes stood out brilliantly amid chips of black. The gold seemed to glint like flames from the sun around her pupil, radiating out from the inner eye and leaving sparkling flecks in the parts of burgundy that remained untouched by the pure golden color.

Fire. Her eyes reminded him of fire, the way the colors seemed to swirl and dance, flickering in the light.

Bill held his hand over the infant. "Ya feel how warm she is, too?"

Joe nodded. "'Course I do. I de one holdin' her." Her body temperature matched her fiery eyes. It was like standing next to a heater when you're all bundled up for winter.

"Ya think she sick? She gotta fever or sumthin'..."

"Nah, she cain't be born sick like that. I t'ink it jus' her natural temperature."

"You think she wonna us?"

"Dieu, I hope not. Markus'd have a field day."

Loud footsteps, slamming doors, and yelling was heard from down the hallway, through the closed door of the Guild nursery. "-Fuck it all t'hell an' back! Where d'fuck is she?! Where dat goddamn fuckin' bitch dat killed m'wife?!"

Joe and Bill looked at each other wide-eyed, then looked at the tiny baby. Her eyes had turned a pure, deep, inky black. "Merde."

The much quieter, calmer voice of the Guild doctor, Sam, was barely heard over the noise the enraged Markus was making. "-Put...the nursery..."

"De fuck you say?!"

The door to the nursery burst open, nearly coming off its hinges. Markus stopped when he saw Joe and Bill with the baby and pulled back slightly. "Figures you two'd be wit d'demon!"

Bill discretely shuffled behind Joe, away from Markus' wrath. Joe stood straighter, without fear, and faced 36-year-old Markus with a show of strength well beyond his own 12 years. "We jus' wanted t'see d'new 'ddition t' d'family, Markus."

"Oh, '_we jus' wanted t'see d'new 'ddition t' d'_family_'_," Markus mocked in a whiny child's voice. "New 'ddition, my ass! She ain't never gonna be aparta _my_ family! Where Julien an' Bella-Donna?"

"Julien an' Belle downstairs. Dey playin' wit Tante."

"Fine! Now 'less y'gonna do sumthin' wit dat bitch, hand 'er over! I throwin' her t' d'gators!"

"Non, y'aint."

"De hell you say, boy?!"

"I said y'ain't throwin' her t' d'gators."

"Dat fuckin' demon murdered m'wife! Itsa least I can do t'pay her back!"

"She a baby. She didn' do nuthin'. Your wife died 'causa complications in d'birth. T'ain't nobody's fault. Nuthin' coulda bin done. Don' blame d'innocent in dis, Markus."

"Y'talk mighty big fo' y'size, Joe! Maybe y'need 'nutha whoopin' t'remind y'who d'boss 'round here! What would y'know 'bout dis anyway?! You jus' a _kid_!"

"I may jus' be a kid, Markus, but I a kid who smarter dan you'll eva be. And I a kid who gonna protect an innocent baby from being harmed by d'likes a you."

Markus glared furiously at Joe, both his jaw and his hands clenching and unclenching in barely restrained fury. "I'll have nuthin' t'do wit her! If she stayin', you takin' care o' her, d'accord?! If'n she dun prove useful t' d'Guild, she gator bait! If'n y'don' want dat chore, den give 'er over! De gators'll eat well tonight!"

"No, Markus. She stays. I take full 'sponsability of her. For all I care, if'n y'got a problem wit dat, den y'can go blow it outcher ass, 'cause I dun give a damn wut you t'ink."

"Dun you dare back-sass me, boy! I'll get d'whip out an' beatcha within an inch a your life! Goddamn ungrateful bastards! Kids shouldn' be 'llowed in d'Guild!" Markus about-faced and stormed off back down the hall, cursing loudly the entire way.

Bill appeared in front of Joe again. "What'll we do with her?"

Joe sighed. "Honestly? I dunno. Keep 'er 'way from Markus."

"Yeah...Looks like we'll need baby supplies, huh?" Bill half grinned at the prospect.

"Yup. She can do wit Belle's t'ings 'til we getta chance t'go inta town," Joe smiled back.

"Maybe we can get Tante t'help..."

"Maybe."

Joe looked down at the baby girl in his arms again. Her onyx gaze was still fixed on the doorway where Markus was a moment before. Slowly, she rolled her eyes toward Bill, and her eyes faded into the reddish/burgundy color that she began with. She then looked back up at Joe and her eyes changed to molten gold before she closed them and snuggled closer to him.

Smiling, he whispered to her, "I promise to always protect you, little one, no matter what the cost..."

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_She swam leisurely in the middle of a lake of fire, although the fact that the shadows were getting closer was causing her an ounce of unease._

_They swirled like storm clouds in varying shades of darkness as they closed in on her little lake - surrounding it in a tight circle and swarming like angry bees as they moved and melted together, transforming into ever-changing beings. It was getting hard to breathe..._

_Gasping for a precious breath, she struggled to stay aloft in the flaming waves that started to crash against her body and drag her down beneath the surface. The beautiful, dancing flames that had at one time welcomed her with their comforting flames that were soft and smooth as silk against her body, now turned into a raging firestorm - harsh and unrelentless in their newfound desire to consume her._

_"He's coming...Hurry!"_

_The flames wouldn't listen to her silent commands - they wouldn't stop. Bright red eyes appeared out of the enclosing darkness. "Come to me..." A hand reached toward her._

"Pyra..."

_The shadows urged the flames on and she lost what little control she had started with._

_She was going to die by her own element._

"Pyra..."

_She reached for the hand, but missed. "Nooo!"_

_She screamed with the last amount of breath she had left before her head sank under the harsh, beautiful, glowing waves..._

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"Woah! Pyra! Cool down before you burn the house down!" Pietro jumped back as Pyra shot up from her sleep, screaming.

Seeing the small flames that started licking at the corner of the blanket, Pyra hovered her hand over them, causing them to flicker once before going out. Lowering her body to a safer temperature for the furniture, she muttered, "Dammit. What number is this now? I've lost count of how many things I've burned in the past week. Maybe I can con Eric into making me some non-flammable blankets." Laughing at Pietro's funny look on his face, she shrugged. "What, luv? You know it's true. Maybe I should ask for a non-flammable house, too. That'd be great."

"Yeah, yeah. Uh...Sorry to wake you from what sounded like a really fun dream, but you need to get ready for school. You're the one that doesn't like being late."

"That's because I teach, dimwit. How long do I have? Don't you dare say anything less than half an hour."

"Umm...well...I won't tell you then."

Pyra cocked an eyebrow at him. "How. Long?"

"...Ten minutes."

"What?! Ugh! Why didn't you wake me up sooner?!"

"'Cause you were sleeping and ya usually wake up on your own. Duh!"

Tossing the slightly crispy blanket to the side of the bed, Pyra jumped up only to immediately sit back down. Grasping her head between her hands, she groaned and bent over her lap in pain.

Rushing to stand next to her with a concerned hand on her back, Pietro asked, "What's wrong, baby? Are you okay?"

Waving him off dismissively, Pyra shook her head and said, "Does it look like I'm okay?!...Ugh...I'm fine. Just a little dizzy is all. Nice of you to be so concerned," she finished off rather sarcastically.

Pietro looked at her, confused. "You're my girlfriend. I love you. Why wouldn't I be concerned?"

Again, Pyra waved him off as she straightened back up and looked at him. "I don't know. I have to get ready for school. I want you and the others to leave now so you won't be late. I'll see you at lunch."

"Whatever, baby. Just don't skip out, okay? I have to have something to look forward to, don't I?"

Pecking her on the cheek, he left the room and called out to the other guys before running out to Lance's jeep usuing his usual super-human speed...

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"Hey, guys. Sorry I'm a whole...thirteen minutes late. Thanks for covering me, Jake."

"Anytime, Pyra."

The other teacher left and Pyra strolled over to the desk, setting down her bag and grabbing a stack of papers to pass around. "I have a short worksheet for you-"

The class let out a collective groan.

"Oh, shut up. It won't kill ya or anything. Besides, it's rather stupid, so I'm sure you'll find it rather hillarious. It'll test how well you know your elements."

"Did you write it?"

"Yup. That's why you'll enjoy it more than if I gave you something out of the book."

"What'll we do when we're done?"

"The lab I gave you the other day. Duh!" Pyra made a funny face at the kid, causing the class to burst out in laughter. "The first person to have this done will get five extra points and a chance to read the story in front of the class."

"Awesome!" The kids immediately got to work.

Pyra went back to her desk and started correcting papers. It was barely ten minutes later when the first kid ran energetically up to the desk. "I'm done, Pyra! That was great. Really...weird."

"Weird was what I aimed for, Angela." Pyra glanced over the paper to make sure it was correct. "Good job. Go ahead and read it, if you want."

"Yup!" Angela danced over to be front and center in the room. Some students continued working, but all gave their attention to the speaker. Clearing her throat with an actor's performance, Angela spoke:

"An Elemental Tale: The Gold Dust Kid. The Kid mounted his trusty steed, old (B) Boron. His shooting (Fe) iron strapped to his side, he headed out for the bright (Ne) neon lights of New York, aiming to rob the mid-day stage. There was sure to be a load of precious (U) uranium aboard, and probably (K) potassium, too. Inhaling a deep breath of (O) oxygen, he choked on the (S) sulphur from the nearby mills. Since the (Hg) mercury was climbing, he quenched his thirst with some H2O, tasting the (Cl) chlorine all big cities like Salem Center had. As he headed north, his bones ached from (Ca) calcium deposits built up over the years of riding the (Zn) Zinc Trail. Overhead, a (He) helium-filled balloon floated in the breeze; the sun beat down like burning (P) phosphorus. Soon, he spotted the stage, guarded only by a sheriff with a (Sn) tin badge. "Halt," he yelled, "or I'll fill you full of (Pb) lead." The sheriff drew his gun, but alas, was too slow. The Kid's gun, blazing like flaming (Mg) magnesium did the (Cu) copper in. Anyone who drew on the Kid should know his life wasn't worth a plugged (Ni) nickel. A (Pt) platinum blonde rode for her life when the Kid pulled out some (N) nitrogen compounds, preparing to blow the safe to atoms. Suddenly, a shout rang out, "Hi Ho (Ag) Silver!" and a masked woman on a black horse raced across the (Si) silicon sands like (Na) sodium skittering on H2O. Yes, it was the Pyra Ranger! A (H) hydrogen bomb would not have stopped this perfectly sculptured lawwoman; the Kid had met his doom. The rest of his life was to be spent behind (Co) cobalt steel bars, a warning to all who flirt with danger. Your first detention may be the initial step in a (C) carbon copy life of the saga of the (Au) Gold Dust Kid. Don't mess with the Pyra Ranger!"

The class clapped and cheered noisely as Angela bowed and smiled at Pyra. Pyra shrugged. "Not one of better works, obviously, but I thought you guys might enjoy that. Alright, now that the fun's over, get out your comp books and head over to the lab."

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Ororo Munroe, aka Storm, tapped her knuckles lightly against the door to the room that Remy was staying in. "Gambit? Are you awake? Gambit?"

Jiggling the handle, she found it unlocked, and so pushed the door open slowly. The bright sunlight from the windows in the hallway spilled into Remy's pitch-black room, filling it with just enough light for Ororo to see. The light of day only reached the lower half of Remy's bed on the wall to her left, and there she saw that he was still asleep. The dark blue blanket covered him from the waist down and his back faced her as he was turned on his side.

"Gambit? It's nearly noon..."

He still didn't stir as she stepped into the dark room and approached him. What she saw on his back made her cringe with pity.

What had this poor boy gone through in his young life? What all had he seen? If she could remember right, he should be around 18 by now. Ororo knew Remy came from a shady background, but actually seeing the the physical evidence of slashes that criss-crossed over his broad back made her wonder just _how_ shady his background was.

Ororo realized that even though she'd known Remy for the past few years, she didn't actually _know_ him.

She reached out and gently lay a hand on Remy's shoulder. "Gambit?"

Too fast for her eyes to follow, Remy was behind her - twisting the hand that she had reached out with painfully up her back as his other hand clutched her throat, cutting off her air.

"Gambit!" she just managed to choke out.

Cocking his head to the side slightly as if just now waking up from a dream, he whispered in confusion, "Stormy?"

Instantly, he dropped his hands and had Ororo sit on the bed so that she could drink in the refreshing cool air as her breathing returned to normal. Remy got an impish look on his face as he smiled at her apologetically. "Sorry, Stormy. Will y'forgive Gambit? He dun do so well when folks try t'wake 'im up."

Smiling back at him now that she had air safely back in her lungs and her heart beat at its usual pace, Ororo waved him off. "Of course you're forgiven, Gambit. I can understand why you reacted that way."

All Ororo could really see of Remy was his lean, muscular outline that could make any girl pant with need, the white glint of his teeth as his easy smile broadened, and his eyes. Those dark eyes that smoldered and dimly glowed like twin candles in the darkness of the room.

"So, whatcha need, Stormy? Couldn' sleep? T'ought y'might b'able t'snuggle down wit Gambit?"

Ororo laughed at his jokingly-seductive tone and shook her head. "Maybe some other time, Gambit. I only came to inform you that it's almost noon. Would you like something to eat?"

Looking at the digital clock on the nightstand, he saw that it was 11:57 AM. Mais, he should be going soon, neh? "Actu'ly, Stormy, Gambit got somewhere t'be real soon. Maybe we make a date fo' tomorrow?"

"Not even here a day, and you're already leaving? Tell me, Gambit, is it really that bad?" Ororo joked as she opened the room's curtains, letting the sunlight from outside brighten the room.

Remy hissed as the sudden light burned his eyes and he dove for his shades. "Issnot dat, Stormy. You know dat. Gambit jus' got somewhere he need t'be real soon, d'accord?"

"Okay. If you really need to be somewhere, I guess I'll go so you can get dressed." She eyed the only piece of clothing he currently had on - his boxers.

"Sure y'dun wanna stay an' watch, Stormy?"

"Yes, Gambit, I'm sure." Ororo shook her head at Remy's never-ending sexual advances on all woman-kind. Yup, same ol' Gambit. Some things just never change...

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Remy led Ororo back to the still-open door. "Your lock system sucks, cher. Y't'ink Gambit could talk to d'Prof 'bout new locks fo' d'bedroom? Or, betta yet, a new security system fo' d'whole house? He sure it needs updatin'."

"You can talk to Xavier if you really feel the need to, Gambit. I think our averall house security is fine, though."

"Gambit a T'ief, cher -"

"_Former_ thief -"

"An' he like his security. He jus' wanna make sure everyone stay safe."

"Of course. Talk to the Professor or Logan about it if it really worries you. I believe they are more knowledgeable with the security system than I. Well, I guess I'll go then and let you get ready for whatever it is that you have to do. I'll see you later, Gambit."

"See ya, Stormy." Remy remained in the doorway a moment longer, watching Ororo as she made her way down the hallway. When she turned the corner and disappeared from his sight, he shut the door and headed to his dressor.

He pulled out a pair of black jeans and a black t-shirt - for the most part typical attire except the days he wore regular bluejeans or his 'Gambit' get-up.

_'Or d'nights where he wear nuthin' at all...'_

Smirking to himself he got dressed quickly. Throwing on his brown trench, he grabbed a few of his usual weapons from his bag. Moving over to the nightstand, he pulled open the top drawer and grabbed a few decks of cards, placing them in various easy-to-reach places in his coat and pants.

After all, he would be going up against his 'worst enemy' in just a little while. It was always good to be prepared for whatever may happen.

And with his target, _anything_ could happen...

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Pyra leaned down and grabbed four brown lunch sacks from the fridge in the Teacher's Lounge.

"Hey - Pyra. I got something you may be interested in. You gotta minute? You're into all that Egypt stuff, right?"

"Huh?" Pyra turned around to face Kathy Peterson, one of the history teachers that taught here. "Oh, uh, yeah. Why?"

"Well, I went to the American Museum of Natural History over in NYC last weekend. You know the one?"

"Yeah. Been a while since I was last there, but I remember."

"Uh-huh. Nice place. Anyway, I saw a flyer for a new exhibit that's coming in a couple months and I thought you may be interested." Kathy took out a colorful flyer from her bag and handed it over.

The flyer had pictures of many scrolls, clay tablets, and war artifacts on it with the words "Come and See the Lost Treasures of Egypt's Lost Daughter" printed boldly at the top, with "Showing March 13-26" at the bottom.

_'Hey! That's _my_ stuff!'_

_'Sucks for _you_ then, don't it?'_

_'I want it back.'_

"Hmm...I just may have to check this out, Kathy. Mind if I keep the flyer?"

"No, no. Go right on ahead. You know, I heard that all this stuff could be from...who was it now? I think it was, like, one of Mentuhotep II's daughters or something. You know, like the one that all her stuff was destroyed or whatever. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. You know ancient history isn't my thing."

"Yeah. Ancient Egypt is way beyond the World Wars. Awesome. Thanks. Well, I gotta go deliver lunch to the boys, so I'll catch ya later."

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"Hey! Have you guys seen Pyra? _Jeez_! What's taking her so long?"

"Cool it, Pietro. The lunch bell just rang a minute ago. Just because _you_ can get here fast doesn't mean _she_ can. Her class is on the other side of the school upstairs and she doesn't have super-speed."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Lancey-boy."

"Yo, Pietro! I see her! Woah-!" Todd Tolensky fell ungracefully onto the floor from his former position of standing on the chair which Pietro Maximoff had just pushed him off of. Freddy Dukes pulled Todd up as Lance Alvers took a seat and shook his head at the scene.

"I still don't see her. Where is she, Tolensky?"

"I dunno, yo! She was just by the door, like, a second ago.! Dang, man! You blind or somethin'?"

"Just sit down and wait, Pietro. She'll get here when she gets here."

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Very quietly - even though the lunchroom was already packed with noisy people, so there really was no use in trying to be quiet - Pyra snuck up behind Pietro, warning with a gesture to the others to stay quiet and play along. Pulling out a chair, she stood behind Pietro and every time he talked or moved, she mocked his gestures like a mime or a misbehaving 7-year-old.

"Doya think she's in line or somethin'?"

"She brings sack lunches. Why would she be in line?"

"Good point . She may be in the bathroom..."

"But she was just here a second ago, yo!"

Pyra muffled her laugh before carefuly leaning over and whispering in his ear, "I'm right behind you, genius."

All I can really tell you that might come close to describing Pietro's expression as he spun around is that it looked as if he just crapped his pants. Badly.

The poor stupid boy turned around in a blur so fast on the chair, that it slid right out from under him, causing his butt to meet with the floor rather harshly. Everyone at the surrounding tables who had been watching the whole fiasco of an affair burst out laughing.

Pyra just grinned down at Pietro from her perch on the chair, and to all the others, she did a powerful fist pump in the air and declared, "Spoils to the victor!" as people started tossing rewarding pieces of food to her.

The laughs continued as Pyra hopped down from the chair and helped Pietro up, brushing him off before telling him to sit and eat his lunch. He grumbled and complained, but dove into the food with the others as Pyra turned the chair she had been standing on around and straddled it.

"Hey - uh - Pyra? Doya think ya could, like, help me with my homework, yo?"

"Now?"

"Well, you know...Whatever's, like, good for you, yo."

"Maybe tonight when I get home. I have something I need to do."

"What?! You promised you wouldn't skip out today!"

"I didn't promise anything, Pietro, dear. And even if I did, promises are made to be broken." Ruffling his hair to his great annoyance, Pyra pushed herself up and left a very confused Toad in her wake. She actually said yes the first time he asked! Or close enough, anyway...

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Remy parked his motorcycle in a convenient space right in front of the building and next to a smaller motorcycle - an elegant and shiny black crotchrocket with intricate red geometric design detailing.

The nice office woman who he had talked to before he'd left the mansion had said that lunch was just about to start. Looking at the clock on the outside of the building, he figured that lunch had been going on for a while now.

Strolling over to one of the wide stone banisters that flanked the stairs to the front entrance, Remy hopped up and sat down, leaning his back against the brick wall and making himself comfortable. He may have to wait a few hours, but if he succeeded in getting the information he wanted, it would be worth it. He was thankful that even though it was late January, the weather was fairly mild. The air had a chillness to it, but if you stayed in the sun, you could retain its warmth. He took out a cigarette and lighter from his jeans pocket.

_'Wonder how well dis gonna go down?'_

Shrugging uncaringly, he shifted his weight and smoked.

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Pyra hummed the new tune that they were working on in band as she debated with herself, making her way through the hallways of the school as she headed for the main doors.

Something felt kinda funny. And it wasn't the 'haha' funny or the usual weird feelings that she had funny. This was more the funny kind of funny feeling that you get when you know something big is about to happen - you just don't know what.

Shaking it off, Pyra continued humming as she pushed open the door and walked out into the bright late-January sunlight.

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Remy turned his head as the doors to the building opened. There, he saw what he'd been waiting to see again for seven long years.

His worst enemy.

She wore bright red jeans that glared in the sun, slong with a form-fitting black turtleneck and a long leather duster - also black - that moved about her calves as she walked, the heels of her black boots clicking lightly against the ground. A medium-sized black leather backpack was slung over her right shoulder.

Obviously she liked leather and the color black...and red.

Her long multi-colored hair was pulled up into a high ponytail that fell clear down her back. Bright red-lensed sunglasses were clear and showed the dark eyeliner and shadow over her eyelids. Her full lips were painted a shiny metallic red and just begged Remy to take possession of them.

He shifted positions as she walked pat without acknowledging - or seeing? - him. Now his legs hung against the stone banister and he let the cigarette hang loosely between his lips as he tsked. "T'ain't good t'skip school, chere."

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Pyra started toward her bike, fully intending to get on and leave. Maybe she'd go and visit Joe. Or go to her little spot in the woods by their mansion and lake. Or go see how Dina and the kids are doing. Or just wander around aimlessly. Hmm...that last one sounded good...

_'You passed by someone back there.'_

_'So? It's probably just some other kid who's skipping or decided to bring their lunch outside. Come to think of it, why would _you _care?'_

_'Because he's hot and watching us, stupid.'_

_'You mean watching _me_. He can't see you. And who cares? Leave me alone. Here's some food for thought for ya: go screw a gator.'_

_'You're the one who kept two as pets when you were in the Guild. But, no. You'd rather screw Remy LeBeau, wouldn't you?'_

_'Who knows? The cute little kid could've turned out to be a really fugly boy.'_

_'Somehow I doubt that.'_

_'Yeah, well, in any case, what are the chances that I'll ever see him ag-'_

"'T'ain't good t'skip school, cher."

_'It's _him_!'_

_'Forget I ever said anything! Ignore him! Just keep walking, get on your bike, and forget this!'_

_'How did he find me? Why is he here?'_

_'Doesn't matter, Pyra! Think logically! They're questions better left unanswered! He's trouble - stay away from him! Don't you dare turn around! I was joking earlier!' _

Pyra stopped when she heard _his_ laughing voice float to her through the strangely warm, late January day. Slowly turning around, Pyra faced the man who had been haunting her dreams for seven long years - only this was different. Now he faced her fully in the flesh. No longer was he a figure from her mind's imaginings that she could reach out to but never really touch.

_'I can touch flesh...'_

_'No you idiot! If you turn around now, so help me Pyra, I will call on all the power of the sacred gods and bring their fearsome wrath down upon your-'_

She had to say, the seven years of separation had certainly been good to him. Yeah, this guy looked pretty good...for a Thief.

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As she turned to face him, Remy casually watched the different emotions play across her face and felt the intensity of each of them beat across his power of empathy. Joy was quickly masked by shock, confusion, anger, frustration - even fear. He saw and felt all those and more. And then...there was nothing at all. Her face was completely blank - maybe it could even be called cold. He reached out with his empathy, but felt nothing. He had never come across anyone that showed so much unstability one minute and then complete control the next. Not many could block their emotions from him.

Oh, well. So much for the cigarette and a show. At least he had her attention now, neh?

"Hey, p'tit. We need t'talk."

She looked away demurely for a moment, then turned back to him with a seductive smirk playing across her lips. Walking over with an eye-catching sway to her hips, she got up real close to him, nudging her way between his legs as she placed her left hand beside his hip on the banister and leaned in. On his next breath, he took in the sweet scent of flowers - mainly roses - with an undertone of a warm-smelling fire.

Reaching up with her right hand, he allowed her to slowly take the cigarette from his own smirking lips as she brought it to her own for an unbelievably sexy drag, closing her eyes for a moment in pleasure. Then she dropped it to the ground and crushed it beneath the toe of her boot. "Don't you know that smoking's not allowed on school grounds?"

Smiling wider, Remy replied in his own husky whisper, just managing to hold back his laughter. "Don' _you _know, chere, dat a packa dose be 'round six bucks dese days? An' y'jus' wasted a whole half ova perfectly good cigarette."

Rolling her eyes, Pyra pushed herself up and started back toward her bike. "I don't have time for this, Cajun."

Remy ran up and cut in front of her to block the path as he crossed his arms and shook his head. "Nu-uh, cher. Y'ain' leavin' 'til we talk."

"I heard you the first time, _Thief_. I'm not deaf. And we have _nothing _to talk about. Leave me alone."

He shot a hand out as Pyra moved to walk around him. "'Fraid I can't, cher. Not 'til we talk."

"Are all of you Thieves this annoying?"

"Issa given. Listen - dere's dis lil diner jus' on d'otha side o'town-"

"Dina's."

"How'd y'know?"

"I'm friends with her. And I take the boys there when I don't feel like cooking. What's there?"

"Jus' figured dat's where we could sit an' chat, p'tit."

Sighing heavily, Pyra rolled her eyes again under those bright blood-red shades and turned to look at the clock tower to catch the time before switching it to her bike, which Remy noticed was the little crotchrocket next to his. He could swear that he saw her eyes flash to black for a moment.

_'Oh, hell no. Don't tell me you're actually think what I think you're thinking!'_

_'What do _you_ care? It doesn't concen you. Go away.'_

_'You _are_!'_

"Whatever."

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**A/N** Well...that was interesting. Hey folks - about time I put up this chap, huh? Yeah and get this - it's not even the full chap. It's just the first part. There's more. Much more. But I wanted to get something up and this chap was obviously turning out on the long side, so I decided to split it. Working on the next chap (which I have...ooooohhhh, about half-way done I guess), but can't make any promises when that'll be up. I seem not to really put these things up too fast, huh? That's cuz I have this thing called a life. A very very busy life. And cuz it takes me a while to write even when I do actually find the time in my super-busy schedule _to_ write. lol

Just a side note that I think I'll be deleting the other fics I have, only keeping this one. I've mostly lost interest in the others, but I like this one and still love the plan on where it's going to go. In replacement of the one's I'm dropping, I'll be adding 2 new connected stories and hopefully 1 other on a different subject. So that's 4 fics there that I'll be working on new chaps for, including this one. I'll probably take turns with them - you know, working on and finishing the next chap for one then posting it and moving on to the next fic and so on. Just so you know if there gets to be a longish pause between chaps for one story.

And sorry for not having that french-word list. I decided that they're kinda stupid to do when you can figure out what most words mean just by the context in which they were used, the words around them, etc. Or you could just look them up on-line or whatever. Ya'll can feel free to drop me a message if you don't feel like looking them up because I'd be happy to tell you. It just gets annoying putting them in every chap when they may not be needed.

n e wayz...I hope ya liked it! Wow...this not-so-little doo-dad of an author's note turned out pretty long, didn't it? hahaha! ~lotsa love, MIP


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